it’s not funny how much I want to fly away and live in a different world. Somewhere where in a different place, different time, different rules and different way of life.
I have been mourning my breakup for 4 months and I think I am finally over it.
Last night I ran into my ex’s sister, last time I saw her it was Christmas Eve and she hated me. I thought she still did but yesterday she told me that she’s sorry for how things ended and how my Ex became right after. She even told me that she doesn’t like his new girlfriend which was a bit funny. When I think about the relationship and how it ended I don’t feel heartsick anymore, I recognize the good and the bad and that’s it.
Last time I posted on here I was hopeful about not having any urges to self harm. Unfortunately I have relapsed after 40 days clean, longer than I had gone in a very long time. My hopeful spell came from leaving a long term relationship and feeling those burdens be lifted but my relapse came from seeing an update in my ex’s life.
I will try not to let this relapse taint my recovery and continue to work on my own happiness and independence.
It has been 6 weeks since the last time I self harmed, usually at this stage I would be shaking uncontrollably and digging for a release. But I don’t feel like that, I feel good. The thing that’s different this time is I am no longer in a relationship. It makes me feel so guilty because my ex knew about my self harm and tried to help the best he could but now that he’s gone I’m finally okay. I know why too, he was so jealous and I would isolate myself in attempt to reassure him but it destroyed my friendships and I would […]
I find myself daydreaming about friendship. I see a person and I think of the potential fun and connection that comes with interaction. I feel so pathetic to daydream about something so simple as a positive interaction from someone my own age.
I don’t know how much longer I can survive. Each moment I’m living I want to go back to sleep where I can be unconscious. Living in this world feels like an ironic form of self harm.
I used to think of suicide as a way to make myself feel better. It was like this far off land that was comforting but I knew I’d never do. Thinking about it would remind me of all the reasons why I couldn’t. But that was awhile ago and it’s changed. Now it just reminds me of all the reasons to do it. Its like I’m already dead and I’m living in some strange in-between.
I hate breathing exercises.
I become so aware of how my breathing is the only thing keeping me alive; which sends me into another panic attack where I can’t breathe. Thats why life feels like dying
I wish two Advil could be enough to overdose. I wish I could cross the street just when a truck was going just a little too fast. I wish that when I sleep I won’t wake up again.
I’m getting really bad, I don’t know if I’ve ever been this bad. Usually my scary thoughts are passing and its the feeling of emptiness that makes the bad times bad. I could count on myself that for every scary thought I would have a good one. Lately the bad thoughts have been lingering longer and are more violent than usual. My thoughts that I could hurt others are getting more real and I feel myself slipping away. The thought of killing myself has always been in the back of my mind but now it’s actually an option.
TW sh (detailed description of self harm)
I remember when I first started cutting, it was so easy for it to go on. the blade glided through my skin in a soft slice. cut slow and long to feel every moment or cut fast to see more blood. The plan was just three; but three turned to five which turned to ten which turned to a full canvas. It’s the only way I know I’m alive. Ive tried cutting over the healed scars but no matter how much I push there’s just not as much blood as there used to be. I know my only option […]
The feeling that you get while on a rollercoaster, how your organs are moving inside your body it gives you a “light” feeling. This is the feeling that has been plaguing me for weeks. I fall asleep for the sole purpose to not be awake but then when night comes I cannot sleep again. My days quickly turn to weeks but my hours drag long.
The only way I want to leave this world is by suicide. Not soon, I still have things I want to do. I have life goals and a plan with my longterm boyfriend. Death takes up so much time in my mind. Any inconvenience is the end of the world or might as well be. I don’t want to die of old age, feeling my body get old and slowly give out, its not the way I want to go. I have spent my whole life surviving, I want to be dead before things get worse with no hope to be better. In a way […]
I heard the bath running and my sister crying then silence. The very first thing I thought was that she was killing herself. But I didn’t run into the bathroom, instead I grabbed a towel from the closet and stood outside the door thinking of what I was about to see. When I walked into the bathroom she was completely fine, upset but alive. I stayed with her the entire time she was in the bath. When I was alone again I immediately broke down into tears.
For as long as I can remember I have been an observer. Whenever I hear a conversation between two people and I have something to say I think “when in doubt shut your mouth”. When I asked someone one word to describe me they said quiet. I would rather say nothing than to say something stupid.
This will indefinitely lead to my downfall but sometimes a complete collapse of everything built up can be easier than dwelling on all the little things.
I am a honour roll student so the 60% I got on my midterm should feel like the end of the world. Instead it feels just like any other mark I’ve ever gotten. I could watch my whole world crumble around me and it wouldn’t even phase me. It is like things are happening to me or around me and I could do anything and the outcome would be the same each time. I am living in a constant loop of the same events and the same numb feeling I cannot escape from.
I traced my self harm scars to make this first piece; for the second piece I smeared paper over my paint pallet.
Represents the longing I have to see physical scars but how the aftermath is always messy.